Practicing the Prayer of St. Francis

By Patrick Allen

If you practice the Prayer of St. Francis faithfully, it will change your life. If you desire to undertake a spiritual journey, to be shaped and formed in the image of Christ, this book will point the way as you examine three powerful spiritual practices that center this prayer: Sowing, Seeking, and Seeing. Each chapter includes a short meditation, a personal story or two, references to Scripture, suggestions for practicing what we pray, and questions for reflection and discussion. This format is intended for personal devotions or small-group settings for Christians of all ages and faith stages.
Part I: Sowing, investigates what it means to sow seeds of peace in hard soil, and what spiritual practices we can employ to bring about a fruitful harvest. Part II: Seeking, offers some spiritual practices that will assist us in our work and shape us as we strive to put others before ourselves, as hard as that can be for all of us at one time or another. And Part III: Seeing, reflects on what it means to remember God's goodness and grace as they come full circle, and how expressions of gratitude can be a powerful spiritual discipline for all of us as we strive to make our way home.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Wipf and Stock
• Release date: Sep 16, 2022
• ISBN: 9781666752878

Patrick Allen

Patrick Allen is chair and founder of the Progressive Economy Forum. He is also founder and senior partner at the law firm, Hodge Jones & Allen.

Book preview

Part I

Sowing in Hard Soil

Planting seeds is an act of faith. Obviously, we have no ultimate control over the outcome, but sowing is a critical part of the process. Truly, we participate in one of the mysteries of life, acknowledging that we are junior partners in it all. Creating new life is way above our pay grade.

And sowing successfully in hard soil is simply hard to do. As any experienced gardener will tell you, extra work is required to prepare the soil, nourish the tender shoots, and tend to them as they take root and grow. And when they begin to bear fruit, even more care is required, especially when we pray to sow seeds of peace where there is hatred, injury, doubt, despair, darkness, and sadness. This is the hard soil of life. If we are to see our prayers bear fruit, we must be clear about what will be expected of us, committed to the process, and willing to dig in for the long haul.

The Prayer of St. Francis is a call to action. It is not a Sunday morning feel-good prayer. Rather, it is an everyday, roll-up-your-sleeves, and stick-with-it kind of undertaking. Hopefully, these next chapters will provide some perspectives and suggest some spiritual practices to help us as we sow the tender seeds of peace in the hardpan we find around us and in our own lives, too. We’ll begin with one of the hardest soils I can think of—hatred.

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Sowing Love Where There Is Hatred

The Practice of Inclusion

Love recognizes no barriers. It jumps hurdles, leaps fences, penetrates walls to arrive at its destination full of hope.

—MAYA ANGELOU

Introduction

Must we start with hatred? Can’t we ease into this sowing-seeds-of-peace prayer just a bit by first addressing doubt, sadness, even despair? Hatred is the hardpan of soils, virtually impervious to water and most other nutrients, so sowing love there is really difficult, but perhaps it is the place most in need of our attention and care. Where there is hatred, let me sow love, we pray. So, let’s put some hands and feet to our prayers.

There are, of course, many forms of hatred all around us, and if we’re honest, in us, too. Here I am not thinking of the overt and utterly horrible instances and outcroppings of hatred—racism, genocide, torture, violence, murder, and war, to name just a few. No, here I want our prayers to sow love in fields of hatred that are personal, honest, and closer to home. I want us to deal with issues that we live with each day but often do not even notice. Others have and will continue to deal with the big hatred issues mentioned above. Surely, they beg and need the world’s attention, but so do the little thoughts and actions that we promote in our own neighborhoods and churches. If hatred is defined as extreme dislike, ill will, resentment, prejudiced hostility, and animosity, then we must face the fact that hatred is at work where we worship, work, and live.

Hatred under the Radar

I want us to examine two kinds of hatred that slip under the radar: exclusion and intolerance. These two may surprise you. You may be asking: Are they really acts of hatred or are they simply human shortcomings or irritations we must put up with? I have come to believe that acts of exclusion and intolerance are serious spiritual matters because they isolate, insulate, and divide one neighbor from another, and often one Christian from another, too. And as they do, we are all diminished and demeaned. That can’t be good. We’ll address these under-the-radar forms of hatred before turning our attention to practices we can employ as we sow love in the hardest of soils, but first let me share two short stories—both personal experiences.

The Friendship Circle

When my wife was invited to lead the music for a new contemporary service at a very upscale church in a very upscale part of San Diego, I decided to tag along. I often drove my old pickup. It looked out of place in the parking lot full of luxury automobiles and even a limo or two. The contemporary service was scheduled early on Sunday morning, followed by the traditional service complete with a choir in robes, an organ, and a full orchestra. The contemporary service used a piano, two guitars, and a drum set. It was quite a cultural contrast for this affluent church, and attendance at the contemporary service was sparse. Between services, there was a forty-five-minute fellowship time on the patio, complete with a table stacked high with fruits and snacks, and a wonderful view of the Pacific Ocean.

The pastor announced during the contemporary service that a large circle, called the Friendship Circle, could be found painted on the patio, and if you were new to the church, you were to stand in the circle. Someone would welcome you and help you find your way. So, after the service I went and stood in the Friendship Circle for almost a half hour, but no one talked to me—no one. I repeated my efforts the next two Sundays with no human contact. Finally, late on my third week’s attempt, I saw someone approaching me. Great, I thought, I’ll finally get to meet someone. The person smiled at me and asked, Could you move over a bit? You are kind of blocking the direct line to the snacks. That was it. I moved over a bit and those in line for the snacks happily talked and joked with each other as they filed by me. I finally walked away and never went back. The message was clear—I wasn’t welcome there. Although the message of dislike and prejudice was subtle, I received it loud and clear. It was exclusion under the radar.

Associate Membership

My wife and I were attending our first business meeting at another church. We had attended for almost a year, and helped out with music on a regular basis. I was even asked to preach one Sunday morning, but we had never attended the monthly business meeting where the elected committees met to conduct church business and make important financial decisions. These meetings were held after church. All were welcome, we were told, and it was clear that most of the influential members of the congregation were in attendance. I was being considered for membership on one of the committees, so we thought that it would be good to see what went on at the meeting before I attended as an elected committee member.

The meeting agenda had two main items: what public statement, if any, should be made about homosexuality, and what was the church’s position on the use of alcohol by its members. As you might expect, the conversation was tense, and it went on for a long time. Finally, a church leader stood up and said that he felt the Bible was entirely clear about homosexuality and the church should be, too. There could be no disagreement about that! Honestly, I don’t know if it was because I had spent my entire adult life working on university campuses where I enjoyed rich dialogue with colleagues, even in disagreement, perhaps especially in disagreement, or if it was my own bent to provide an alternative view, but I pointed out a few flaws in the leader’s argument and his interpretation of Scripture. That didn’t sit well with the leader. Apparently, one of the unwritten rules of the business meeting was that no one should contradict anything said by the leadership. I didn’t know that, but I did heard whispers a few rows behind me: He’s soft on gays!

Although it was difficult, I remained quiet throughout the rest of the meeting—well, throughout most of it. The conversation turned to the use of alcohol by members, and another leader stood up and proudly told the story of a couple who wanted to join the church, but it caused problems for the membership committee because they owned and operated a local winery. It wasn’t entirely clear, but they assumed that they also drank some of the fruits of their labors, which was probably an accurate assumption. The leader went on to say that even though there was no prohibition concerning the use of alcohol in the criteria for church membership, the committee felt that they needed to take a moral stand. So, they refused to let the couple join the church as full members, but they did offer them associate membership. It wasn’t entirely clear what associate membership entailed, but what was clear was that they would not to be considered for membership on any church committee or for any leadership position in the church. Obviously, they were viewed as outsiders, as second-class members, and their lifestyle would not be condoned. They were hurt, but in a loving Christian way, of course.

It was all I could do to keep from yelling, but I did comment with all the restraint that I could muster: What an interesting way to deal with this issue. I’m glad to know that Jesus could be an associate member here.

As you might expect, my comment was not well-received. In fact, it was met with stone-cold silence. Again, I had violated one of the unwritten rules of the business meeting, but to this day, I’m not sure which rule it was. There were a lot of unwritten rules. What I am sure of is that during the next week my name was removed from the committee election ballot. Clearly, I was neither wanted nor welcome to serve in any capacity at the church. I guess that I was an associate member, too. My questions and perspectives were not welcome.

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What these two stories have in common is silence in one form or another, but it is not a holy silence. Of course, silence can lead to times of helpful meditation, reflection, and prayer, but the silence in these stories demonstrates a form of intolerance that leads to exclusion—forms of ill-will that are rightly called hatred. I know that sounds harsh, but if we’re going to sow seeds of love in the hardpan of hatred right where we live and worship, we must recognize and name these behaviors for what they are, especially when they are practiced in Christian community.

Exclusion

You can tell a lot about a church by where the line is drawn between us and them, and particularly so when the line is drawn at the front door of the church building. Those literally on the inside are good, while everyone else is suspect. They are outsiders—misguided, mistaken, mistrusted, unwelcome, even dangerous, and must be avoided or silenced or both. When this happens, suspicion leads to ill-will, and ill-will leads to the practice of shunning and exclusion, not too subtle forms of hatred.

As one reads through the Bible, the arc of the narrative bends toward inclusion. We first see God’s covenant with one person, Abraham, as he sets out for a land that was to become his inheritance. Later, we see God’s covenant with a people, the children of Israel, as they fled the tyranny of Egypt and wandered their way to the promised land. I heard one pastor say that God not only had to get the children of Israel out of Egypt, but God had to get Egypt out of his people, too. I think that process is still going on within each of us.

Jesus’ ministry was more inclusive still, associating with Samaritan women, dining with tax collectors, healing lepers and other outcasts, even the children of Roman soldiers, and forgiving the sins of prostitutes. He was concerned with embrace and inclusion, not ritualistic purity, and he took a good deal of heat for it from the establishment. In due time, it cost him his life. Even when speaking of his impending death, he was inclusive: "And I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all people to myself" (John 12:32). That’s all people—all.

The coming of the Holy Spirit was inclusive, too. According to Luke, "When the day of Pentecost came, they were all together in one place (Acts 2:1). Note that word again—all. All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit . . . Parthians, Medes and Elamites; residents of Mesopotamia, Judea and Cappadocia, Pontus, and Asia, Phrygia and Pamphylia, Egypt and the parts of Libya near Cyrene; visitors from Rome (both Jews and converts to Judaism); Cretans and Arabs—we hear them declaring the wonders of God in their own tongues!" (Acts 2:4, 9–11).

Peter and Paul preached and pushed and practiced this same inclusive arc as fledgling Christian communities began to form, not only in Jerusalem but in cities across the Mediterranean as well—and not only among Jews who faithfully kept the rules and rituals of worship at their local synagogue, but among gentiles, too. It was another grand inclusive embrace, one of the major themes of the Bible. Yet, exclusion so often slides under the radar because we don’t see it, and because we don’t see it, we don’t speak out against it or change the way we live. If we desire to sow seeds of love where there is hatred, practicing inclusion is a good place to start.

Intolerance

Intolerance and exclusion are not the same thing, but they are cousins. While exclusion keeps others away who are not like us or do not worship like us or do not practice their faith like us (outsiders), intolerance is aimed at insiders, particularly those who have sincere doubts and honest questions about the prevailing theology of the church or denomination or movement, how the Bible is read and interpreted, the role of the leader, women in ministry, baptism or prophesy or speaking in tongues or holy living. I could name many more, but I think you get my point. Every Christian community has theological stances. That’s not the issue. The issue is whether and to what extent there are opportunities to not only explore "what we believe" but also to share any questions or concerns that you may have, to share what I believe. Are there opportunities for open discourse? Is it encouraged or are such questions unwelcome, viewed as signs of disbelief, disloyalty, or a lack of faith? If they are unwelcome, intolerance is lurking just under the radar.

When you are told it’s our way or the highway, I suggest you look for the highway, particularly when you have serious reservations or moral concerns about our way. No fellowship should ever ask you to check your brains or your moral compass at the door to gain membership. Intolerance can produce a deep sense of cohesion among its members but sadly at great personal and spiritual cost, not only for those who are no longer welcomed but also for